Bitter Reunions
Thomas had been pushed before. He had pushed people before. He had been in his fair share of fights (won most of 'em), and of all the places he thought to be provoked, Gamewell ranked very, very close to the bottom of his list, right above Holy places of worship. Especially while wearing the uniform of Gamewell's Jesters. But, for some reason, this man hated him. And, once he was pushed, his training took hold of him, and he went to move away. Which was precisely when the Mad One pushed him again. Thomas staggered back, and turned to face his foe. He had every intention of calling a city guard, but as he looked into the dark brown eyes of his assailant, he could feel the hatred, the violence, the anger, flowing from him. His only thought became to throttle his opponent, to rip the life out of his deranged body and then (time permitting), to rip his heart out and eat it raw. Where the last thought about eating the heart came from, Thomas had no idea, and it plagued his dreams for nights to come. But, fortunately for him, a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. Surprised, he turned, ready to face another attacker, and was inordinately relieved to find a familiar face.
"Milord Jester! I... That is... He..." Thomas couldn't find the words. He was trembling, whether from the fear or the hatred, Beau Jester could not be sure. He helped Thomas to the ground, and moved to meet the man who radiated the hatred. For a moment, Beau was overcome with the feelings of hatred and violence which Thomas had nearly succumbed to, but managed to block it out of his mind. When he did so, he could feel a strong magical aura around the man, a familiar aura, but one he could not place. As familiar was the aura, the man's face was familiar too, but again, he could not determine where he had seen it. Surely, if he had come across something this evil before, he would remember it.
After both parties had studied each other (and a gathering of city guards and brave onlookers had encircled the pair), Beau was the first one to speak. "Who are you, and what is your business here?" He wasn't sure that he had wanted to say something harsh, but it was better then both "Welcome to Gamewell, care to share a drink?" which was entirely inappropriate, and "Be gone, Demon spawn!" which might have be more appropriate; but seemed a little too harsh.
The Mad One studied Beau a little more, before he finally replied. "Who are you, and what is your business harassing me?"
At this, Beau was completely perplexed. The man spoke like he expected to be answered, and like he hadn't heard Beau's first question. After pondering courses of action, Beau decided on the polite route. "I am the Lord Jester, of Gamewell. And you..." But before he finish his question, the Mad One was upon him, with a dagger, which had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Before he knew it, his cheek was slashed, deeply, and four guards held the Mad One to the ground. "Take him to Mother!," he commanded. "She'll know what to do." But even as he watched the man being dragged off, he could hear his screaming.
"Liar! The Lord Jester is dead! Dead! I know you! I'll be back for you, Lord Clown!"
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Important: If you've enjoyed this, please read this--Copyright: 1997